Verndari af Morgunsár
by NeenerNoot
Summary: A girl comes from the Germanic states to Italy in search of a new life. She gets more than she bargained for. (Rated for strong language. Ratings will change as story progresses.)
1. Curiosity Killed The Kat

**_Chapter 1: Curiosity Killed the Cat_**

My life _really_ started when my family got enough money to move to Italy. They said it was a prosperous place, even the slumish parts we would have to live in. We learned the smooth language on our way there. Once we arrived at the mind-blowingly beautiful gates to Florence, we checked in with the guards, and found a savory tavern that we could rest in until we purchased our new home. We stumbled over the fresh language just trying to purchase a room, we Norse folk being unfamiliar with this kind of coin. We got one room with two double beds. My mother shared one bed with my youngest sister, Eryn, and my father shared one with Evalyne, my oldest sister, while I, the firstborn, slept on a cot at the other end of the small room. I had trouble sleeping that night, with Evalyne waking up and cheering herself on rather loudly to some dream, and Eryn sucking her thumb loudly. The noise of people talking and laughing kept me awake as well, along with the images of my first time laying eyes on the gates. It still took my breath away that I, a little Viking peasant girl, was allowed to pass through into this amazing city. I knew I'd only seen the poor side of Florence so far, but it was still beautiful. Maroon, brick-shingle roofs with cream colored walls to contain all of it's carved, wood supports and gilded furniture inside. Even the pub we were in was fancy. The "cheap" cot I slept on was lined with silk threads and had intricate designs stitched onto the blanket. It was all so amazing to me. I loved drinking in this luxury with my dark brown eyes, but I wanted to do more. I wanted to look through the stained-glass windows of the homes and gaze at the elegant silver and gold foodware displayed on their tables, the gems hewn into the bronze frames of paintings made by the hands of Odin himself. I wanted to smell the aroma of fine cheeses and fruits baking in the sun-kissed market streets, with the people waving crystal-like glass bottle of sparkling wine and shouting in their flowing language that enticed my ears to listen.

'_That's it._' I thought to myself resolutely. '_I'm going to go explore._' I quietly peeled the cotton sheet off of me and lifted myself carefully off of the creaky wooden cot and padded over to my deerskin boots. After I pulled them on, I quickly and quietly opened and shut the door to our room, sneaking myself out in the process. I made my way through the hall and down the stairs into the nighttime fray. The people milled around me, their faces drowning in their beers, not sparing little ol' me a glance, which was good. I bounded out of the muggy room full of alcohol-breath and stinky men into the dimly lit nighttime streets of Florence. It was cool- not nearly as cold as my homeland was at night; it was pleasant. I wandered aimlessly through the cobblestone streets, smiling pleasantly at every late-goer I passed, not caring if they had less than kind intentions. Most of the windows in the buildings were dark, but that didn't stop me from quietly peeking into the ones that weren't covered by silk curtains. I touched every stone, ogled at every statue and fountain, traced every carving, and admired just about everything. It wasn't until I turned into a dark, foul-smelling, and _very_ occupied alleyway that I remembered that I was still a small girl wandering in a thug-filled slum in the bowels of a grand city. I fingered the hilt of my steel shortsword my father forged for me and turned away from the alley's opening. Much to my horror, I was stopped by my shoulders being roughly grabbed. I drew my sword and sliced the offender across his unclothed gut, earning a shout of pain and my release. Cursing my wonderment and curiosity, I bolted off in what I hoped was the direction of the inn, sword still drawn. I stumbled over a loose roadstone and fell flat on my face with a crack, pain shooting thru my nose and into the rest of my face. I pulled myself up as quickly as I could, ignoring the warm, bitter-sweet dribble of blood going into my parted lips as I ran full speed into-

"A dead end. Fan-fucking-tastic." I sucked in a pained breath through my ragged breathing and turned my head to look over my shoulder. '_Wow. I'm not all that fast, am I?_' The other end of the brick side passage was blocked off by unruly looking men with ragged clothes and scruffy faces. I swore again and got down into a horse stance with my sword ahead of me, preparing to parry-and-run. One of them stepped towards me with a drunken swagger, and spoke in Italian.

"Such a sweet little thing. . . Won't you give us homeless, coinless souls a little sugar?" He said in a faux kindness.

"Speak of me as a treat and I will cut your throat." I returned in their native language, my voice not faltering despite my shaking nerves. The man took another step towards me. The wind picked up, fluttering nearby leaves, banners, and clothing, along with my short hair.

"Such a kind face harbors a cruel, sharp tongue. And that body. . ." His eyes raked over my petite form, I could tell, even through the darkness. "So small, so soft, yet carrying ugly clothes and sharp steel." He spread his hairy arms as he walked closer still, and I congratulate myself for not moving and not taking my eyes off of a single one of the five men. My sword was beginning to shake, along with my hands. '_If my parents find out about this, I am so dead. . ._' My main concern at the moment was making sure I wouldn't _actually_ become dead. Or worse. I tightened my grip on my sword. "Why don't we relieve you of those dirty rags. . . Papa will keep you warm." He was very close to me now, and when he made a sudden, quick movement to disarm me, I slice his arm, long and deep, and quickly shuffled behind him, stabbing the back of his knee to keep him down.

"Grab her!" I turned quickly and got back into my stance, only when I was sure the man I downed would stay down. I got down low, ready to slash n' dash. I feigned to the right as I charged, slashing out to the left and cutting one of my assailant's knees. I turned on my heel and kneed him in the face before blocking a clumsy lunged at me with a knife. I pushed forward, grabbed his wrist, twisted his arm behind him, and kicked his ass to the dirt. I hadn't realized one of them had struck me until I was face down on the stones with my vision threatening to go black, both from the aggravation of my nose being violently jarred and being hit in the back of the head. I struggled to get to my feet, but my brain was responding slowly and my limbs felt heavy like lead. Before I could even get on my hands, and hand roughly grabbed my hair and brutally smashed my face into the stones once, splitting my lips and cutting my gums. The hand entwined with my hair, wrenching my head up and forcing me to look right into the dirty eyes of one of the drunken perverts.

"Little cunt! How dare you draw weapon upon us! Do you know who we are, bitch?!" He screamed in my face, making my head pound more. I was on the verge of tears, from the humiliation of being beaten, and fear. "You are are filthy pig outsider! You are a boot-cleaning whore who deserves to be put in her place!" He slapped me hard across the face and continued once the man holding my hair forced me to look forward again. "You are a floor-sweeping bitch who should be beaten and chained and raped for stepping out of your boundaries! You-" He paused, took a small breath, and flashed me a grisly smile. "Not a problem, though, right boys?" They all cackled in response. I chewed on my spit lip to keep control. "That's why we're here; to put bitches in their place. Hold her down." Another man came and sat on my thighs and held my wrists to the ground. Though, suddenly, I heard someone yell, then pow, pow, pow! First, the man holding my limbs disappeared, then the one holding my hair, then the one in front of me. Regaining control of my limbs, I scrambled on my scraped hands and knees over to where they had kicked my sword and took it up. I stood back up into a fighting stance, but my head suddenly pounded and my vision turned black, and I crumpled to my knees. But, before I could hit the ground, a pair of arms wrapped around my middle and gently lowered me to the ground. Because of the position, I was leant against the person's chest, which smelled of light cologne, sweat, wine, and traces of a woman's perfume. I feared that it was one of the perverts, but one of the arms moved from my ribcage and I felt a warm, calloused hand on my cheek. That same hand gently slid down my face until it came to my chin, which was lifted up and I found myself staring, with blurry vision, into the face of a different man.

"What did those bastards do to you?" He asked me. I blinked, confused.

"I, uh. . ." My brain was fogged with exhaustion and pain. I winced when I felt cloth on my nose.

"Shh, I know it hurts. . . We need to get you to a doctor. Can you stand?" I nodded, holding the cloth to my ruined nose. The man helped me get to my uneasy feet with one arm holding me up around my waist. I knew it was stupid to trust this person, but I could handle myself against him if he turned out to be fishy. Even through his clothes, I could feel that he was a muscular man and was clearly able to handle himself against those perverts. I swung my right arm behind him and grabbed onto his shoulder, using it as a support as we hobbled somewhere. I was very dizzy and disoriented. And scared. I hated to admit it to myself, but I was scared. On the verge of tears. I think this man knew it, too, for when we got to the mendicant's hut he would not leave my site. Even as he sat me down to be examined, he kept carefully running his fingers through my shoulder-length hair. Another thing I hate to admit: him doing that sent shivers down my spine and rose goosebumps on my skin.

"Dare I ask what mess you've brought me today, Ezio?" Said the doctor through his birds-beak mask. So, my saviour is named Ezio? It sounded strange to me as a name, but I secretly liked it (Not so secret anymore, though, eh?)

"Group of sex slaves got a hold of her. I fought the ones off that she didn't evicerate." Said Ezio. I felt a rush of pride that he noticed my handiwork, but I stamped it down quickly.

'_This man is not your friend._' I told myself. My vision had cleared up in the soft light of the makeshift medical room. I saw the doctor, cloaked in a black robe, shuffling around the space, gathering rags and little vials of liquid herbs.

"She 'evicerated' them, you say?" His beak (mask) turned in my direction, and I could faintly see eyes behind the glass-covered eyeholes. "At least you were armed, ma'am. I'm thankful, for your sake, that this young man showed up when he did, or else you could have been off a lot worse." As he spoke, he poured some of the pungent herbs onto a cloth and began to gently dab at my throbbing lips. The delicate skin pulled as he washed my face and re-opened my tender wounds. I did my best not to flinch, but Ezio seemed to be able to read minds, because he started to massage my scalp in a comforting way. "Ooo, this is a nasty split, milady. It won't require stitches, though. Just be careful and it should heal normally." I nodded in response, albeit sluggishly because of my growing exhaustion. He then grabbed another rag, more herbs, and went for my nose. This time, I did flinch. My poor nose had been abused in the past, and had the scars to prove it, so I was wary about any more pain inflicted on my smelling device. Ezio's hand moved from my hair to the junction of my neck to my shoulders and rubbed the tense muscles there softly. It was then that I realized that I hadn't gotten a clear look at his face yet. Or thanked him, for that matter. I used the opportunity of the doc pausing momentarily to shoot my gaze to where I thought Ezio's face was. What I saw, though, did not disappoint me one bit.

He was stunningly handsome, with dark eyes and olive skin, pronounced cheekbones and an angular jaw along with a sculpted nose in the middle of his face. He had hair about my length pulled back into a red ribbon (though not wavy or as thick as my own) and stern, yet somehow kind, dark eyebrows upon his forehead. He wore a fine cotton-sleeved doublet and rather, ah, fitted leather trousers stuffed into tall, black leather boots. I hadn't realized I was staring until he looked me right in the eye and smiled. Blushing, I quickly turned my head back towards the doctor and allowed him to examine my nose. I had to retain a shiver as Ezio's hand moved from my neck to my shoulder and squeezed lightly.

"It doesn't appear to be broken. I'll repeat myself: take care of your face, lass, you've only got one and if I were you, I wouldn't waste such a gorgeous gift." I tried to smile at his compliment and thank him, but my mutilated facial features prevented me, so I settled for nodding.

"So, if I may ask, what were you doing out at this hour?" Ezio asked as the doctor cleaned the last of my scrapes and gave me a rag for my face.

"Exploring." I said carefully, not wanting to jar my lips or nose.

"I assume you are new here, yes? Where from?" Ezio continued. I wouldn't lie to myself, I enjoyed him asking me questions. Though, that just might be a "me" thing.

"Germanic states." I replied.

"Ah, I knew I recognized that accent. Did you come with family?"

"Yes. They are in an inn a bit west of here." My heart dropped as I spoke. '_Shit, how am I going to explain this rash act to them?_'

"Do they know you are exploring?" Ah, the golden question.

"No. They snore. I was restless. . . Florence is a beautiful place. I wanted to explore." I said. "I need to get back before they notice I'm gone." I said, getting up and shuffling over to the door before remembering my manners. "And, Ezio is it? Thank you for saving me."

"Anything to teach those perverts a lesson and save a beautiful damsel in distress." He said somewhat jokingly, though the term "beautiful" made me blush. "I won't risk the same thing twice, though. I'll walk with you back to the inn." I didn't even bother to stop him as he placed a hand on my shoulder and guided me through the dark streets. I was, again, thankful that he was with me because I did not know my way back to the inn. I guessed he'd lived here for some time because he seemed to know where he was going. Once we stood at the twin wood n' wire doors to the inn, I mustered my courage and looked him right in the eye.

"Thank you, Ezio. For everything" I really meant it. I could tell he was a good man; don't ask how I could tell. Now that I look at it, though, I was pretty sure it was just infatuation. "My name is Kiaalt Odinsdotter. I do hope I will be seeing more of you, good sir." He smiled at that, and it made my heart flutter. He inclined himself somewhat, took my hand, and brushed his gorgeous lips against my knuckles.

"Ezio Auditore da Firenze, at you service, milady." He said politely. I was thankful for the darkness, because I was as red as a beet.

"Perhaps I will be less shaken and tired tomorrow. . . Meet me by the chapel and we may, hopefully, get to know one another?" I said it innocently enough, but we both knew it was my sorry attempt at flirting. He still smirked at it, though.

"Sounds like a plan. Sleep tight, miss Odinsdotter." He said, brushing his thumb against my cheek in a sort of 'goodbye'.

"Thank you. Good night." I said as we parted. I watched his retreating form for a moment, cursing myself for being so easily swayed before bounding back to my parent's room and worming under the covers of my cot as if nothing had happened. I got no sleep that night. My heart was aflutter and my mind was swirling with thoughts. Fear, lots of fear is what I felt. Fear of my parents, the people in this city, Ezio, and myself. '_You are a damned fool, Kiaalt. . . This little trite has earned you much trouble. . . Learn from it, you stubborn dog._' I scolded myself to sleep, with fluttering thoughts Ezio and how stunningly handsome he is. And what a little idiot girl I was this night. I blamed my infatuation on the adrenaline of almost being beaten, killed, and/or raped and him saving me from that situation. '_You'd better be over it tomorrow. Things like this have only ever hurt you. Best not to meet him. . ._' The thought of me forcefully shoving any chances of fleeting love away saddened me. It had to be done, though. '_For your own sake._' Yeah, for my own sake. . .

(I have to review this. . . . The format changed when I put this on FF. Tell me what you think, though. I, personally, dislike it, but I'll leave the nitpicking to you.)


	2. In The Hands of God

My family, of course, had questioned my broken and bloody face. I just told them I fell out of my bed onto my face and left it at that. Obviously, they didn't believe that for the life of them, but thankfully, they let it be. For now. As we explores the bustling markets of the upper town, the idea of running into Ezio haunted me. If that did happen, what would happen if he said something about last night in front of my parents? Not only would I have to explain _him_, I would have to explain my "adventure" to them. Not only was that bothering me, but my apparent infatuation for him. I had hoped I would have gotten over him- I really did hope! But, alas, my. . . _Affection_- I hated the word, was still there for him. My eyes scanned the crowd, wary of his face, yet also wanting to catch a glimpse of him. Just to prove I wasn't crazy. That this man did, in fact, exist, and that he was not conjured by my overly-active imagination or the cause of hallucinative drugs put into me by those perverts. I didn't know which to hope for. My affection-starved self was hoping this would be a glimmer of love I so desperately needed, and my other self- the cruel yet lifesaving one, wanted it to be nothing but a "thing". Another bump in my short life that I would remember but think nothing of it.

"Kiaalt?" My mother's concerned voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked over to where she stood behind my father, who was scanning over some cuts of meat at a merchant's stall. "Are you alright, lovey?" I hated lying to her. She was my mother, for Odin's sake! She raised me, and I should owe her that much, but. . .

"Yeah. Just tired. Squirt (I call the older of my two little sisters, Evalyne, "Squirt" because she was tiny as a newborn. Though, that was six years ago, it stuck.) was making loud noises last night." I said. She raised a brow.

"Your father and I didn't hear anything." She said.

"You're deaf in one ear, and dad had his face under a pillow." I countered. She shrugged and hefted Eryn further onto her hip. I went back to staring out at the crowd when I saw him. My blood turned to ice. He was standing out of the way of the people no more than a hundred feet from me. He was with another man, talking with him. I averted my gaze quickly and hoped he hadn't seen me and shuffled over to where my father was to help pick supper. I timidly looked over my shoulder. Shit! He was looking right at me. He only smiled and sent me a knowing wink before resuming his conversation with the man at his side. I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding. At least he had the sense to stay away for now. Father wandered off to look for spices and I went with my mother to find a snack, and I had unwillingly asked her if I could go "explore" the chapel nearby. She, surprisingly, agreed to let me, but told me to be back to the inn once the sun started to go down. Without even realizing that I'd left her side, I found myself slipping through the crowd towards where I could see the ornate rooftop of the chapel sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the rest of the buildings. My heart was racing. '_You smitten bitch! You're chasing after some mysterious man that you don't even-. . . Wait a second,_' My feet halted with my self-berating. I shuffled over to a nearby building in view of the chapel's grand entrance and leant against the wall to let myself think. '_You're smarter than this, Kiaalt, so why. . .? Why are you acting this way? Why does this man have such a profound effect on you?'_

"Question without answers. . . Or questions that should not be answered. Just pondered. . ." '_She's right, or, er. . . I'm right. Love isn't new to me. Being hopelessly in love with people you've just only met isn't new to me. This is different. The question is; am I willing to take a leap of faith to figure out why he is different? To figure out if this might actually be something?_' "I'm not so bold that I'd risk myself for this, but I certainly am dumb enough. . ." I decided, at that moment, when I saw Ezio standing top of a building and my jaw dropped to the ground.


End file.
